


Apocalypse Buffet

by Aichi



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Body Horror, Body Modification, Gore, M/M, Other, Possession, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13409667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/pseuds/Aichi
Summary: Gyze is hungry after entering its new body. Fortunately, a meal is readily available. (Please read the tags.)





	Apocalypse Buffet

**Author's Note:**

> III'M SERIOUS PLEASE READ THE TAGS+ARCHIVE WARNINGS. IT'S REALLY NOT PRETTY.
> 
> No rape or any sexual content though, that one's for the general noncon nature of.. uh, everything.
> 
> Anyway yeah if you don't wanna see Chrono die violently and Gyze being generally nasty then Please Leave Now. If not, carry on, I guess.
> 
> SIDE NOTE: This shit is Pronoun Hell tbh, Gyze is "it" and Chrono and Kazuma are "he" but I kept fucking it up a lot while I was writing so please tell me if there's any mistakes I didn't catch.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: After a lot of retrospect, I no longer feel entirely comfortable with the content of this work - which is kind of The Point, but still. I'm leaving it up on the request of a couple of people who liked it, but Read At Your Own Risk.

The first thing Gyze notices about its new body is how _weak_ the human is.

Not just in comparison to its true form, but even by human standards – the body is in pain, something gnawing at the inside of the boy’s abdomen, burning and twisting in his stomach. Gyze ignores it, at first, prioritizes the descent of the final Zeroth Dragon and the defeat of Gear Chronicle’s “Singularity”, the human who was to be its vessel before it was provided this alternative – and who seems, now, particularly eager to defeat him for the sake of “Kazuma”, whatever that is. Gyze doesn’t care.

It’s only when the Singularity lies defeated on the floor that the deity realises its body is _hungry_.

Seeking an explanation, it reaches out and probes into the vessel’s mind, caged away in the corner of what was once his own brain. The vessel’s thoughts boil and rage, overflowing with emotions that Gyze doesn’t care to name as the human beats at the walls of his tiny, miserable prison, helpless to resist as his memories are browsed, flicked through like the pages of a book.

The human had rushed here, lured by the Apostles, ignoring his body’s signals to eat and drink and instead following an irrational, frantic determination to – protect something? Prove something? Whatever the vessel may have been trying to do is irrelevant, but Gyze recognizes his target, his motivation.

‘ _Chrono.’_

The Singularity. Gyze had almost forgotten already – but now it finds its gaze drawn to him, still motionless on the ground. It watches for a moment, until his chest rises and falls gently – not dead, then, merely unconscious. The other, smaller boy that had accompanied him is lying a little further away, and stirs slightly as Gyze glances over his body. He makes a quiet, weak noise, but doesn’t stand, merely raises his head a little before collapsing again. Injured, perhaps. Regardless, the boy is irrelevant, unworthy. The Singularity is the only one of any real note.

Hunger claws at the vessel’s insides again, wrapping around his stomach and squeezing viciously, desperately – truly a pathetic existence, Gyze thinks, to be part of a race with bodies this frail and needy. The fact remains, though, that until it reaches its full strength and finally reduces this world to ash and silence, the deity still requires a host. Therefore, this body needs to be fed, tedious as it is.

_Very well_ , it thinks. _If you desire the Singularity so deeply, vessel, then you can have him_.

The boy’s mind rattles in his cage, but his screams of trivial nonsense barely register as Gyze approaches the Singularity’s – “Chrono’s” – fallen body and nudges him with a foot. No response. Satisfied, Gyze rests the foot against him again and shoves, rolling him from his side onto his back. Still no response, it notes.

When it crouches to straddle Chrono’s body, the vessel’s mind _howls_.

A powerful shiver rolls down Gyze’s spine, and it freezes, draws inside itself, and wraps another layer of chains around the vessel’s prison. For safety. It wouldn’t do to have the boy thinking he actually stands a chance of fighting back – Gyze understands that one of its Apostles is fond of that kind of behaviour, but such things are unnecessary, impractical. Irrelevant.

And besides, the vessel is the one who needs to eat. He should be grateful.

Returning its attention to the task at hand, Gyze straddles Chrono’s hips and slides a hand under his shirt, pushing it up to expose the human’s warm, pale belly. Exploring the skin with its fingers, it pokes the flesh here and there, noting the amount of resistance in each area – the upper chest, undoubtedly the source of both the body’s breath and heartbeat, seems the most interesting, but the organs are caged away by bone – meanwhile, the lower stomach area is softer, more pliant, much easier to penetrate. The latter is a more viable entry point, but even _that_ in itself poses a problem, Gyze muses, running its tongue around the inside of its mouth – its human teeth are flat and blunt and clearly not designed for ripping or shredding.

Modifications may need to be made.

Its actual strength may still be restrained, but, bound as it is to this human vessel, such a thing should be well within its power. Gyze reaches into itself, to the ties it holds with its true form, with the Zeroth Dragons, with its other vessel hidden away on Cray, entwining itself with their power and drawing energy back, letting the heat of it flow up through its chest and into the vessel’s mouth.

A powerful, tearing pain tugs at its teeth, and somewhere inside him the human boy’s soul writhes in agony, but Gyze simply waits, lets him bear the brunt of the suffering, effortlessly directing the energy within until its task is complete.

It runs its tongue around its mouth again, testing the tips of its new, pointed teeth.

Much better.

Sliding down Chrono’s body, Gyze arranges itself for its meal, chains rattling distantly – irrelevantly – inside its mind. Through the abdomen, it decides, then up towards the heart. Not only will this body’s irritating hunger finally be sated, but it may even absorb some of the Singularity’s power.

Gyze opens its mouth, leans forward, and sinks its teeth into Chrono’s stomach.

Warm, coppery blood gushes into its mouth and it growls, quiet but satisfied – and at the same time, both the vessel and Chrono _scream_ in horrified unison, Chrono’s back arching off the ground, eyes snapping open and nails clawing at the concrete in helpless confusion. Gyze, unperturbed, tears at him and pulls back, flesh stretching and ripping in its mouth as it takes the hunk of meat with it.

The human is, surprisingly, delicious. Perhaps Gastille was right, it thinks, and they were destined to be one after all.

Chrono is still screaming, gasping, writhing under it as it swallows, applying just the slightest amount of its power to ease the too-big chunk down its throat and help it settle comfortably in its stomach. Leftover blood dribbles from its mouth and down its chin, stray drops landing on Chrono’s thighs as he thrashes.

“K-kazuma...” he moans, weak, disoriented.

Gyze ignores him and leans down for another bite. One of Chrono’s hands, nails bloodied from panicked clawing at the ground, makes a weak, useless attempt to push it away even as its teeth sink in again, deeper this time, until its face is half-buried in the ruined, dripping hole in the human’s chest. Choking and shuddering in pain, Chrono tries again, fingers grabbing pathetically at Gyze’s hair.

Without pulling back, it snatches the offending wrist in its own hand and _wrenches_ , power sparking down its arm. A swift yank and quiet popping noise is all it takes for the limb to fall limp, its owner shrieking and convulsing as Gyze rips free another chunk of his stomach fat. It looks up for a moment, blood coating the entire lower half of its face and practically drooling from its mouth, to observe as the Singularity rolls his head weakly to look at his arm, stretched uncannily out of its socket and bent at an impossible angle. His face is half-dazed, half-horrified, blotched red and stained with tears.

Something compels Gyze’s attention to linger on him for a moment, and as he slowly looks up as well, their eyes meet.

“Kazuma...” Chrono whispers again, voice even more audibly strained than before. “Please... I know... you’re...” he manages, before his voice gives out completely and he simply coughs, gurgles, shudders again, then finally goes still.

For a moment, silence falls over them, and the inside of Gyze’s mind clatters and shakes as the vessel throws himself against the walls of his cell like the trapped, feral animal that he is.

“Irrelevant.” Gyze mutters, the word vibrating in its throat, and it returns to its meal.

As it tears off another bite, Chrono’s body heaves again, a wild, shuddering gasp escaping his throat before he collapses back to the ground. Still clinging on to life after all then, it seems – and so much the better, Gyze thinks, as it means blood will continue, for now, to pump into the gaping hole that used to be his stomach, fresh and ready for the deity to drink up.

Lapping idly at the edge of the deliciously metallic wound, Gyze begins to seek out and tear away stray bits of skin and flesh, gulping them down and gradually stripping more and more from the human’s abdomen. Feebly, the muscles beneath flex in useless resistance until its teeth slice through them as well, pulling away layer upon layer of the human’s outer shell until his innards lie bare and exposed – and so, so inviting, because the vessel’s body is _still_ hungry, somehow, despite its relatively small stomach being already near full.

The most likely explanation, Gyze considers, as it extends a hand to Chrono’s stomach, is its vessel is simply struggling to contain it in his current state. It is a god, after all, even when its powers are limited, and encasing such a deity into a frail human form should be expected to put significant strain on the body’s systems. And of course, it reminds itself, as its fingers slide into the soft warmth of Chrono’s flesh, the energy expenditure of this form adapting to contain its new owner is no doubt compounded by the former owner’s refusal to eat, too.

Irritating, yes, but a problem easily solved, especially with the Singularity so readily available.

It presses itself deeper into Chrono’s body, fingers sinking in between hot, damp coils of intestine until its hand is engulfed past the wrist. Almost immediately, it can feel the Singularity’s power humming around it, starting to bleed out into the open, just waiting, _begging_ to be claimed. Gyze twists its wrist, curls its fingers around whatever it can grasp, and pulls.

Tangled intestines spill onto the floor, and at the same time Gyze directs a little of its energy inward, just enough to make the human jerk and choke again, lending him life for just a little longer. If the deity is to take his power for itself, it will be most efficient to do so at the moment of death, the moment the Singularity’s hold on himself is finally severed, yet before his energy is able to disperse into the world around.

He needs to hold on only a little longer.

Gyze sinks its hand into the flesh again, and this time explores its way further up the inside of the body, prodding aside and slicing through anything that impedes its progress, another tiny application of power all it takes for the tissue to part easily under its nails. Before long, its fingers find something firm and resistant, likely a lower part of the bony cage that protects its goal. It curls its fingers carefully and proceeds, a wet squelch and a muffled cracking sound accompanying another push as it leans forward and forces more of its arm into Chrono’s chest.

A faint but rhythmic beat pulses through its fingers, and it know its target is close.

Arm engulfed past the elbow now, Gyze spreads its fingers, presses left and right to seek out the beating’s source. Chrono’s body doesn’t react in the slightest, apparently too weak to do anything but simply _survive_ – though, of course, even that isn’t going to last long. The boy’s eyes are still open, glassy and soulless, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he gazes sightlessly upward.

Gyze can’t shake the fact that it feels _drawn_ to his face, somehow. The feeling is illogical, _irrelevant_ , and yet it–

Its fingers brush something. Something that still pulses with energy and life despite its failing body.

Triumphantly, Gyze claws into its trophy, the muscle clenching weakly in its grasp as it _tugs_ , stretches, the flesh resisting at first but quickly giving way as, with a grotesque sucking noise, it pulls its arm free, Chrono’s heart clenched in its fist.

Something _snaps_ in the air as it does, as if the balance of the universe has shifted.

The Singularity’s heart is so small, so vulnerable, and yet practically dripping with energy. Gyze lifts it in its blood-caked hand with the closest thing that such a powerful deity could possibly feel to _awe_. Already, though, it’s beginning to drain away, droplets of energy cascading off into the air around it.

No time to waste, Gyze thinks, and bites.

Power, rich and full and delicious, flows into its body as the final spark of Chrono’s life winks out, and the vessel’s mind, long forgotten, curls in on itself, its screams fading at last into bitter, despairing silence.

The muscle itself shreds easily under Gyze’s teeth, and it swallows greedily, finally, _finally_ satisfied.

And as the torn remains of the Singularity’s essence settle in its stomach, it turns its eyes back to the body’s face, to Chrono’s empty, lifeless, still-horrified expression. Something _draws_ it to the boy, even now, and it leans over him, steadying itself with its bloodied hand as it gazes into his blank, dull eyes.

It feels an urge to press its own lips against his.

The gesture seems useless, meaningless, so painfully _human_. So _irrelevant_.

Gyze lowers its gaze to Chrono’s neck instead, to the bare skin visible at the collar of his shirt. The body still has so much meat on it, it thinks, as it leans in, teeth bared. And even though the vessel’s hunger is sated for now, it will surely resurface before long. It takes a lot of energy to adapt a mortal body to suit a god, after all.

Gyze opens its mouth, presses its teeth against the vulnerable skin at the crook of Chrono’s neck.

No sense letting good food go to waste.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.
> 
> Do I even wanna plug my twitter on this one? @cosmowreath I Guess.


End file.
